Doctor Daycare
by shadybabe101
Summary: Knock out has always been an egotistic mech and appears to have no intention of changing even though he has sided with the Autobots. Ratchet has always been a short-tempered and no nonsense kind of bot. But what would happen if they had to become the adoptive creators of a very sick and young sparkling caught in the affects of an acid rain storm? Will they rise to the challenge?
1. Chapter 1

**Shadybabe101 here!**

**And I'm back with yet again another fanfic for you w**

**It is something I have never attempted as a storyline as it revolves around the "aftermath" of Predacons rising in a way, with an interesting but good twist in it. In this plot I have tried to show different sides of some of the characters without making them OOC and hopefully...I have succeeded.**

**Without any further or do...I proudly introduce and present to you**

**Doctor Day-care**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE TRANSFORMERS PRIME CHARACTERS AS THEY BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS; HASBRO**

No one should ever have to feel lonely. No one should treat others with disrespect. No one was created to die; though these thoughts have plagued the minds of many for centuries. It makes them cower in fear from things that never used to raise alarm. Once in this state of mind however, one rarely escapes it. It will eventually swallow them whole until everything...everything turns black; pitch black. It is caused by mainly the loss of something of great importance to the person; a thing that is irreplaceable; never again to show its face through the ever darkening fog of ones crumbling state of mind.

Some of this self-created fear can occasionally lead to forms of depression; irreversible depression. If it is not the pain from loss that drives a person to their extremes then it is the agony of the slower yet overall more deadly depression that destroys and literally tears a person apart: physically, mentally and spiritually. No matter how strong they thought they had been before the mist began to creep in, their real and truest colours will appear under the blackest shadows of their once clear, perky mind.

In a dimly lit room, a continuous symphony of tapping of keys filled the area. It would unexpectedly stop for a short period of time then it would suddenly start again; a continuous cycle. If one was to observe the surroundings further, their gazes would stumble upon a Cybertronian; a Cybertronian who was hunched over a large computer keypad. The mysterious humanoid creature tapped several more keys before gazing up to proof-read what he typed. Solitary was an excellent description of him, as well as slightly antisocial at times. But it was a well known fact among armies, that war changes people, and change him it did. Once a young Cybertronian mech learning to be an assistant medical officer was abruptly thrown into war and thrown into becoming one of the most prized medics to have ever walked the very face of Cybertron.

His personality...

...where would one start?

His _personality_ varied depending on what situation he was placed into. He was not boisterous nor was he rebellious; he was not quiet or timid either. The only official way to describe him correctly was to say that he was on the boundary of every emotion; mysterious yet not unpredictable.

The mech would grumble upon occasion though he was more than likely unaware that he was doing so. He wasn't high-strung, aggressive but when someone aggravated him past his limits, the storm would begin and the volcano would erupt. You certainly did not want to be on the receiving end of his anger especially when his most "esteemed" possession was at servos' reach.

**First person**

I gaze at him from behind waiting for him to physically acknowledge me even though I can sense he already knows to his very core that I am present. The older model has surprisingly acute senses for a bot of his **grand****_ old_** age. Not a good fighter mind you but then again, neither am I...

We share similar knowledge him and I; medical being the most obvious. However, he is far more experienced than I think I could ever be...ironically I still have a lot to learn. But what I lack in certain medical experience, I most certainly gain in body work. Paintjobs, buffing and new armour fittings are my current speciality. Many have told me my liking towards these three necessities is rather bizarre and ludicrous. Ha! They are but envious fools!

The elderly medi-bot hadn't glanced up at the centre computer monitor in a lengthy period of time and his murmuring had also stopped, all that was audible was the clicks and taps of his digits flying swiftly across the keypad. I look down the hall behind me where all of the sleeping quarters lie peacefully with their Autobot owners'. Being the former Decepticon I am, I am gradually adjusting to my new surroundings as part of the Autobots. I tend to keep a distance from everyone for their sake and...My own, just until everything has settled down some more. The war maybe over but that does not mean that something will not happen and I honestly I do not think I am the only one who thinks this.

My mental rambling halted when I heard his low grumbling start once more and I decided it was about time to reveal myself. Carefully, I slowly emerged from my hiding spot as I quietly tip-toed to his frame. I tried my best to make as little noise as possible but I knew his audio receptors were _extremely_ finely tuned which meant one false move and I was a fried frizz-rat.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WHEELJACK?! IF I'VE TOLD YOU ONCE, I'VE TOLD YOU A THOUSAND TIMES! YOU HAVE TO GIVE YOUR LACERATIONS AND WOUNDS ACTUAL TIME TO-!" He growled and snapped his frame to face me at a remarkable speed only to find me in a dumbfounded stance. Now I felt stupid. "Errr...my apologies Knock out, I thought you were..."

**Normal Point Of View**

"Wheeljack? Nein aber you _do_ sound rather disappointed that the rebellious wrecker isn't here conversing with you" Knock out leapt out of his awkward pose and casually sauntered next to his newfangled colleague as his flirty tone arose from his vocalizer. The cherry red mech clasped his servos together behind his back and rocked nonchalantly on his heels humming in thought. His vigilant crimson optics flicked across the main computer monitor; carefully observing Ratchet's work.

"So..._dearest Ratchet_, what wonders have you been working on at such a joor?"

Ratchet watched the mech contemplate over his work and gradually also turned to face the large centre computer monitor as his colleague had done a short time ago.

"Not a great deal...I've just been decoding various files that I uncovered late in our stay upon Earth as well as equations" The older bot mumbled unsure if Knock out was faking his interest or he generally was intrigued.

"Hmmm, I see," Knock out replied bringing a servo to rest under his chin "Considering you rarely left that sleazy garrison that you called "home", surely you would've had plentiful time to finish your work?"

"Regardless of the fact that I had the time to do it, the racket that everyone else created detoured me from it. Besides it is hard to concentrate with the continuous ruckus of the children and not to mention those factious Wreckers. In the end, it just kept going to the back of my brain-pan..." A sad smile formed upon Ratchet's lip components thinking about the little organic planet and its even smaller inhabitants. The older medic showed very little positive emotion but the children had all gained a very special yet secret spot in Ratchet's ancient spark; a place that they would probably never discover. He truly cared for them; even though they had their mischievous moments, these moments mainly being Miko's.

"Ohhh I've seen that look...you miss those humans don't you _dearest __**Ratchet**_; who would've guessed that the most temperamental mech to have ever walked the face of Cybertron allowed organic creatures to get under his Proto-form?!" Knock out's famous "courteous" voice emerged to the surface, much to Ratchet's dismay. The older medic was pondering very deeply to find a logical way to shut the arrogant mech up which involved **NOT** waking everyone from recharge.

"Moving on," Ratchet quickly said, changing the subject through his tightly gritted denta. "Why are you awake at this joor? Insomniac? Or have you come to boast about your "immaculate" finish and simply could not wait until tomorrow to inform me?!"

...That did it...

The cherry red mech's vermillion optics snapped open as he scowled at the chief medical officer in disgust. If Knock out did not constantly buff and wax himself as much as he did, then he would look like everyone else in this living establishment; scarred and worn. What was everyone's problem with the way he lived?!

"I'll have you know you bit-brain, dim-sparked rusty burnout! That...t-that..." Knock out snapped stabbing one of elongated talons towards Ratchet who just glared at the mech babbling before him; his beady and wise optics narrowing.

"For a "newly recruited" Autobot, you've already broken one rule..." The chief medical officer said an unreadable.

"And just **WHAT** would that _be_!" The cherry red mech spat through his tightly gritted denta.

The sudden silence began to swarm the atmosphere between the pair which sent an uneasy feeling into Knock out's tanks as shivers ran up and down his spinal strut. He had always had a sixth sense for when something was going to occur and now was one of those times.

_...Oh joy..._

"Never...**ever!** Treat anybody like you have just treated me! Because do you know what Knock out! Everybody else will treat you like the knock-off coward I've heard you numerous times to be".

An awestruck expression leapt onto Knock out's faceplates as a hurricane of anger began to swim its way to the surface.

_...And boy was it fast..._

"H-how dare you accuse me of being a coward!" Knock out growled, his seething tone sent electric sparks crackling inside his _own_ processor. "Anyways, you are one to talk dear doctor, just how many times did you leave your little Earth accommodation exactly. Yes If I remember, you weren't quite the outdoorsman..."

Ratchet was ever so close to slapping this narcissistic mech across the faceplates with his wrench. His moods changed quicker than the blink of an optic; one klik he had been roaring at him for saying he was a coward which honestly in Ratchet's optics he was, and the next his cocky self rose up again as if he had never been angry in the first place. How he was going to learn to cope with him he would never know.

...He had to face facts; getting along with Knock out was incorrigible...

"You would be wise to respect Ratchet solider, for he is a very valuable member of our cause and is extremely skilled in what he does".

Both Knock out and Ratchet turned to face the corridor behind them where a darkened silhouette stepped out of the shadows to reveal Ultra Magnus standing proud; one of his large pedes marginally raised off of the ground. Ratchet nodded his helm once and almost instantly, the new Autobot leader began limping towards the pair. He still hadn't fully recovered from his battle with the two new Predacons on the scene; neither had Smokescreen. He hadn't mentioned anything about his wrist joint being a little stiff and had been instructed by Ratchet to put oil on it twice an orbital cycle.

The commander's injuries however were a great deal more complicated; luckily for him many had been cosmetic which meant Knock out had had something to do. As for the non-cosmetic injuries, Ultra Magnus thankfully only had one notable. A servo-full of secondary circuits in his left leg had to be completely reattached for they had violently snapped during the battle. Fortunately for Ultra Magnus only four of his primary circuits in his leg had been slightly lacerated instead of snapping like his secondary ones. These wounds were what were causing him to raise his left pede off of the ground in order to stand or move around; not that he was supposed to do either...

"Now...would either of you care to explain to me why you are creating a rambunctious and orderless conversation at this joor?" The tall commander inquired while gradually limping towards the pair; his optics never faltering despite the intense cramping in his leg.

"I was finishing some work that I wasn't able to on Earth, _Commander_" The chief medical officer murmured not making eye-contact

Ultra Magnus hummed in agreement as his piercing wise gaze unhurriedly wandered over to Knock out.

"And what exactly is your excuse Soldier?"

Knock out was classified as a Soldier however he didn't really attended field mission enough to be one. A body work artist was undoubtedly best suited for him rather than risking his own finish more than once an orbital cycle. He wasn't even fully schooled enough to be a medical assistant and yet somehow he managed to teach himself enough to become one! At the time however, medics were in short supply on Cybertron and both factions were taking absolutely anybody who knew anything medical.

But then it hit him, what was his excuse? His lying skills drew up mediocre however, Knock out had a bad tendency to say more than what he needed to.

"Are your audio receptors impaired Soldi-!"

"I am not a Soldier, I am not a Soldier and I am barely qualified enough to be medical assistant. My speciality is body work which explains why there is positively no scratch or dents upon your frame,_ Commander_ Magnus sir" Knock out uttered as his crimson optics fell downcast. The Commander and the chief medical officer stared at the cherry red "medic" in awe. Surely Knock out was greatly regretting correcting Ultra Magnus but then again even if he was, he was hiding it incredibly well. He had been well respected by the Vehicons and Eradicons aboard the Nemesis as he was the one constantly rebuilding and fixing them and especially after Breakdown's demise; it gave Knock out a daily insight into what had been occurring on other parts of the vast ship. He was the only one who didn't bark orders at them which they greatly appreciated.

"My apologies...Knock out is it?" Knock out still did not make eye-contact with the new Autobot leader but he did have enough decency to nod his helm. Why did he sense that nobody wanted him here? Why could he hear it in their voices? Surely he had proved himself to them by whacking Starscream with the immobilizer and causing him to fall unconscious? Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead had seemed pretty convinced that he had changed...

_...But he did destroy the relic..._

Knock out's thoughts suddenly ceased when he heard Ultra Magnus speak up again.

"Ahem...well as I was stating earlier...what is your excuse for being awake at this joor, _Knock out_?"

The cherry red mech lifted his helm up to see Ultra Magnus's shrewd gaze digging into his own vermilion optics. His optics twitched in uneasiness as he felt himself beginning to stew in his own guilt. He hadn't thought of an excuse! His constant daydreaming had occupied his time!

..._This was going to be interesting to say the least..._

"I was," Knock out slowly began. "Assisting our dear medical officer with...with his...errrm," Knock out's processor was flicking through the conversation he had with Ratchet before Ultra Magnus had interrupted and what he had said he had been doing. What was it! **WHAT WAS IT!** Equations! Equations and decoding various files! EUREAKEA! "Decoding of various files as well as numerous equations as I presumed an older model such as himself may have needed someone with a _younger_ touch to assist him-yes that's exactly what I was doing..."

Knock out heard the white and orange mech exhale sharply with an added curse in obvious irritation. The Aston martin may have been arrogant in what he had said but he had gotten the general gist across.

..._mostly..._

A lengthy pause followed Knock out's reply as Ultra Magnus continuously flicked his gaze between both of the shorter mechs; analyzing the current situation present. Ultra Magnus would have sent the pair on their way, _straight away_ but he knew both of these mechs were medical officers, one being a great and world renowned physician upon Cybertron and the other _claiming_ not to be fully qualified. No matter his authority or the protocol that stood, he could never overwrite Ratchet's or Knock out's medical opinions on him; nor could he on any one of the Autobot warriors and currently his wounds he had sustained from the pair of new Predacons meant he was not allowed to perform any task which required an overuse of his normal span of motion. Thankfully, now that the war had drawn to a conclusion, he wouldn't have to worry about rushing his recovery to get ready for a battle. Now he could find peace as well as everyone else.

Being the only logical choice, Ultra Magnus had taken Optimus's former role as leader of the Autobots; though the commander knew all too well that he would never live up to be as commendable as the last Prime had been. Still, dwelling upon the past was not going to put anyone else further in life-this included Ultra Magnus.

"Ahem! Commander Magnus..."

A voice startled him out of his trance as he gazed down to see Ratchet with a fisted servo to his mouth components.

_...Humans and their bizarre ways of communicating..._

The chief medical officer's optics were angled upwards towards the superior officer as they seemed to swirl in confusion as a small sample of dominance and authority stood. The chief medical officer then continued...

"...I would strongly advise you to not strain your injuries, _sir_"

Ultra Magnus glanced down at the considerably smaller mech with an unreadable expression as his optics began to narrow regaining his authority with ease.

"I thoroughly understand and respect your medical opinions and views doctor however, I honestly do not see any fault in simply standing here conversing with you both" The tallest of the group replied, one of his optic ridges' rose.

"Too much strain upon your injuries and wounds is not salubrious and I would strongly advise you to retire to your quarters and actually power-down instead of completing your mountainous pile of reports. I do not intend to sound harsh in any way shape or form Ultra Magnus but you will only make it harder for yourself if your body does not receive a lengthy and decent period of rest".

The commander said nothing for a few moments but then finally yet slowly nodded before turning his attention back to Knock out who stared at Ultra Magnus emotionlessly.

"I presume that you concur with Ratchet's medical views and opinions?"

Knock out's opinions on the Commander's situation were far from the same and as far as he was concerned, the Autobot Commander had almost completely healed. His leg didn't spasm like it did before when he stood at all, and the strip of metal that Ratchet had welded over his leg laceration was nearly due to be removed; to treat the wound underneath again and for the chief medical officer to judge as to whether he needed the strip of metal to be put on again or whether his laceration had healed enough to leave it off for good. Then again, Ratchet knew far more about this topic than Knock out and tended to inform his patients the truth which, as he had observed, wasn't always what they wanted to hear. His observation being between Ratchet and Wheeljack which abruptly ended when Wheeljack said something which he ended up immediately regretting as the chief medical officer lobbed a wrench at his helm which nearly knocked poor Bumblebee down in the process.

"I...I agree with Ratchet. It isn't advised for you to be doing something too physical for lengthy periods of time..." The cherry red mech nodded.

Ultra Magnus hummed offlining his optics to analyse the both of the medics' statements; which to his annoyance were extremely similar. He had been hoping that one of them would've said he was discharged from his confinement to their new headquarters. The Commander hadn't been on any patrols for what seemed like one whole vorn and honestly...he would have been lying if he thought it actually had been; constantly in his quarters with dim lighting going through his ever growing pile of datapad reports that had been logged into the main computer in the main room. Joor after joor after agonizing joor he typed or read. Whatever he _had_ read seemed to vanish into the boundaries of his CPU and disintegrate into nothingness. Ultra Magnus had worked well into the night and early joors upon occasion but this only resulted in him falling into a power-down at his unkempt desk.

He rapidly onlined his optics as he unexpectedly awoke from his small train of thought. His steady glance travelled downcast to the two mechs; who gazed back at him with puzzlement in both of their blue and vermilion optics.

"Judging by your statements regarding my welfare, I believe I will be unable to join everyone else on their patrols?"

"I cannot believe you could think of such things!" Ratchet snapped, one of his famous mood swings kicking into full gear. "In your current condition you expect me to allow you into the field!"

"I do not appreciate your tone doctor and you are forgetting that there is another medical officer present and you would be wise to confer your medical opinions with Knock out from now on instead of speaking for our..." Ultra Magnus paused suddenly as his gaze quickly shifted to Knock out before rapidly flicking back to fall upon the chief medical once more ."...newest recruit"

Knock out's optic fumbled from embarrassment as he gazed at the floor as if it had miraculously spiked his interest; which it definitely hadn't. When he had been a Decepticon, when confronted with Megatron's destructive wrath everything about him began to waver; his optics could simply never lock upon anything and when Megatron's booming and commanding voice echoed through the space, he always jumped with fright while constantly fidgeting.

...Yes under all of the cockiness and arrogance was an apprehensive mech but no one had known him for long enough to possibly know this; Breakdown being the only exception...

Sometimes, Knock out's audio receptors would be ringing joors after his former leader's rampages or failed missions. He was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who suffered from this symptom. When Megatron was not in a joyous mood he made the whole **FRAGGING **solar system know about it by screaming out threats or screeching a battle cry as he charged towards innocent Vehicons; Vehicons the Decepticons were in constant shortage of.

..._Primus knows why..._

"Ahem...well then if you don't mind me I'll be on way to my quarters..." Ultra Magnus paused as he glared at Ratchet as he spoke up again "...to get some much needed rest I can assure you both," The Commander paused for a final time adding ... "If I am making the effort to recharge, I would strongly advise for you both to do the same..."

He gained a nod from them both before turning on his heel and slowly but steadily limped towards the darkened corridor. His pede-falls echoed off of every wall. Step, scrape, and grunt. Step, scrape, and grunt. Step, scrape, and grunt were the only sounds that met the two mechs' audio receptors as they gradually began to grow quieter and quieter, softer and softer until the click of a quarters' door was heard and the mechs optics met once more.

"Are you going to...?" Knock out started gesturing towards the corridor, a sense of awkwardness washing over him.

"No...No," Ratchet waved him off also feeling a little bit awkward "I shall continue my work..."

Ratchet turned to face the large monitors filled with various pieces of text. Then he slowly began to stride towards them in a unusual upbeat walk. Knock out wore a similar expression as he watched the older medic saunter towards the monitors and within a short period of time, Ratchet had begun typing again as his mumbling or his "proof-reading" continued. An interesting cycle to say the least...

The cherry red mech shrugged while humming as he did so; he wasn't needed or useful at this current time to the old medi-bot. A sudden tiredness washed over him as he could make out his berth beckoning him to rest. He swivelled around and causally began to stroll out of the room to his quarters when Ratchet's voice echoed from his work space.

"Knock out..." He began, hearing the red mechs' pede-falls suddenly stopped. A shuffling of stabilizing servos was heard that were also followed closely by a fatigued sigh. The chief medical officer knew; Knock out was more than likely wearing that repulsive and smug smirk on his mouth components as one of his servos would be neatly placed on one of his hips in that irritating manner of his.

..._how delightful_...

"Do you...Do you think that Megatron still resides h-?"

"No," Knock out cut him off mid-word and judging by the way he spoke Ratchet knew he wasn't lying about his thoughts. "I honestly think he has left Cybertron and possibly even this galaxy to reflect on the past. That is my opinion on this matter though. I could tell that Megatron's words on his understanding of oppression were aberrant of him and in spite of everything he lied to you about; I can assure you...my former master was telling you the full truth, the complete truth and nothing but the truth...he spoke with a schön und a genuine voice rather than sounding like some fragged up robo-dog..."

"So you don't think he's in hiding somewhere plotting his next move?"

"Megatron may once have been a ruthless tyrant but he knows when he has been beaten; for all we know, _dearest Ratchet,_ he may very well be in hiding all the way in the ruins of his former stomping grounds where he was a "champion" gladiator or he could be a few thousand mechanometers away but none of which are in best interests and they shouldn't be in yours either"

Ratchet swiftly turned around to face him completely baffled as Knock out crossed his arms over his chassis.

"You mean to tell me that you are no bit concerned about your former leader?!"

Knock out shook his helm. "I have never had to have been, he was rarely on the medical berth in any serious or critical conditions. He has only been in one dire affair on my watch; he is quite capable of taking care of himself if that's what you mean..."

Knock out felt the tension radiating off of Ratchet's chassis. Something did not feel right; the atmosphere had become an unpredictable cloud of uncertainty. The old medical officer must not have been telling him something, something he didn't want to share.

_...time to charm it up Knock out..._

"Are you quite alright Ratchet? You seem a tad bit te-?"

"I am perfectly fine! I just-I'm worried about everyone who **will** be returning home and Megatron will be there...waiting...ARGH! I can just imagine their horror stricken faces when that psychopath charges at them..." Ratchet offlined his optics and let his helm fall downcast. He really had no difficulty picturing what he had told Knock out.

The crying...

...The screaming...

...The stiff lifeless faceplates covered in their own energon...

Ratchet's visions were brought to a thorough stand still when laughter glided rapidly into his audio receptors. Curiosity overwhelmed him as he unhurriedly lifted his helm up as he onlined his optics only to see something that made his tanks churn with infuriation.

_...Knock out was in __**hysterics**__..._

"I-I do not understand? What is-what is so amusing Knock out?" His confused tone only made the younger medic roar even louder with laughter. He didn't answer Ratchet however and continued to snicker; this only aggravated the older medi-bot further as he felt his energon begin to boil.

"Knock out! If you don't tell me what is so hilarious in three astroseconds I will weld your servos to your stabilizing servos!" Ratchet hissed trying not to break into pure shouting. The red mech almost instantly cease his cackling and glared at the other medic with a faint glint of vainness in his vermilion optics.

"Alright alright don't get a glitch in your equilibrium sensors; we certainly would not want that now would we?"

By now Ratchet was undoubtedly close to smacking Knock out's smugness all the way back to the rust age but thankfully for the self-centred mech, the old chief medical officer had a firm grip on his very last strand of sanity; a grasp that may not last for much longer...Ratchet knew all too well that Knock out was trying every method in the datapad to get right under his proto-form.

_...It was working..._

"Please," Ratchet snarled through his gritted denta as he crossed his arms. "...continue"

"I just found it amusing as to how your emotions change with such a short occurrence"

_That's what Ratchet had told himself about Knock out!_

A lengthy and awkward silence dragged on after Knock out's reply as both mechs glowered at each other. Crimson disks locked with cyan ones, both reading the other's motives and feelings.

"Like what you see doctor?" Knock out said in a seductive tone, smirking as he did so as he winked one of his vermilion disked optics flirtatiously.

"Ironically, I don't," Ratchet snapped making the younger bot's faceplates drop as they changed into a peeved scowl. His crimson optics began to swarm with utter umbrage as Ratchet observed the self-centred mech before him. Both medical officers seemed to create a bitter and irritable atmosphere whenever they were in the same space for themselves and everyone else in close proximity. No matter how many times Optimus had told him prior to this day that plentiful arguments makes a relationship between to two people stronger...

_...His statement was not entirely true with this relationship..._

Turning swiftly on his heel strut, Knock out began exiting the main room again without a single mutter of "goodnight" or "see you tomorrow, _dearest doctor_". He was in an obvious sulk about verbally being out smarted; that or he was too tired to retort anything back to Ratchet.

As the sulking mech's pede-falls began to fade into nothingness, the old medical officer turned slowly and trudged sluggishly towards the monitors and once again began typing on the large keypad. He wasn't in the mood for anymore conversing tonight with anyone regardless of their needs.

He needed peace...

...he needed tranquillity...

...he needed to accept the new changes, no matter how difficult they were to him...

But this level of happiness he doubted he'd ever received; this unusual "family" that Optimus had named it never seemed to give him the opportunity and probably never would.

As his processor clicked back to his conversation with..._Knock out_... he began to question his behaviour. He had been a fool. Acting like a rebellious youngling and the way he encouraged him by answering back the way he had done.

Whimsical...that was the only word that sprung to mind...

Showing sudden changes of mood or behaviour...that was definitely what he had just displayed.

_...what they had __**both**__ displayed..._

His processor then leapt to another question: how was he meant to work orbital cycle upon orbital cycle with a self-centred egotistic mech like Knock out. It was quite possible that he would go blind from his "outstanding" finish or Knock out's vain quotes about himself would send him deaf. Either way, Ratchet had hit rock bottom...

...could Ratchet's life possibly get any worse?!

_Yes, it could..._

_...by something small yet as equally prodigious..._

**One chapter down...a lot more to go! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter though. I certainly put a lot of effort into this one I can assure you! **

**Good things come to those who wait and if you wait patiently the story will kick in quicker I promise**

**Have an amazing Valentine's Day whatever you're doing or planning ;)**

**-shadybabe101 signing out!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heya!**

**If you are trying to guess what is going to happen next...you're going to need to be a mind reader or something...**

**Try as you might, you'll never guess...which means more enjoyment for moi.**

Knock out sat quietly in the corner of the main room of the Autobots new current base subconsciously flicking a random bolt on the table next to him. It was relatively early and it wasn't like him to be an early bird. He had his reasons as to why he was up. Knock out was a light recharger and sleeping next door to two loud snoring wreckers did not help him in the slightest. One wrecker was bad enough but two was utterly absurd! They could start a symphony with the racket they were creating! Knock out desperately needed the right amount of beauty sleep or he would go on a peeved grouchy rampage!

The small bolt rolled back towards him for the final time as he stopped it and unhurriedly picked it up. Bringing it to his vigilant optic level, he observed the small bolt as he twirled it around in his elongated digits. It didn't provide him with anything interesting but the littlest of things could easily stimulate the processor in a situation such as this one.

Sighing in frustration, Knock out angrily lobbed the tiny object across the room causing it to bounce off one of the monitors and it landed somewhere in the middle of the floor. He just hoped that Ratchet didn't find any mark on his precious monitor and he got found out. He would have so many dents on him he wouldn't be able to function!

Growling quietly, Knock out swivelled around on his seat and placed his elbows plates upon the table while hiding his faceplates in his servos. He was soooo **_FRAGGING_** exhausted! Why was it that he got the last berthroom? Why didn't _he_ get to pick first instead that enormous titanium moosebot, Ultra Magnus?! Well at least he didn't have to share with Wheeljack or Bulkhead for that matter. Now that would be a sight for sore optics...

Ratchet had retired to his ,no doubt colossal quarters joors ago, presumably not long after Knock out had left him but he wouldn't have known that because two deafening slag for brains were blocking out any other noise! He had literally smashed his door open when he had finally had enough and now here he was in this pitiful drained state.

Knock out felt his optics starting to shutter and he wasn't in the mood for stopping them. By now, Knock out honestly didn't care where he powered-down as long as he was undisturbed, it was fine by him. Tiredly, he lay his arms crossed on the table and rested his heavy helm upon them as his crimson disked optics slowly closed. It wasn't exactly comfortable but it only took a matter of moments for the egotistic cherry red mech to slip gently into a dreamless recharge...

_...At last..._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You mean you just found him here this morning like this Ratchet?"

_...ohhhh shut up Smokescreen let...me...recharge..._

"Indeed Smokescreen, it seems like Knock out couldn't recharge and came out here to..."

_...Cybertron below me...WELL DONE GENIUS!_

"I hate to say it but for former 'con he looks kinda peaceful don't he?"

_...I thought Wreckers were meant to have iron bearings? HA! How ironic..._

"So, we just leave him here...like this? I would prefer it if that manifold-mouth stayed quiet for once..."

_...unless you intend to wake me up, femme..._

"Arcee please...if we wake Knock out forcibly we will not hear the end of it"

"Yeah, I agree with the doc we either leave him here for a bit then wake him up _or_ we wake him up now, _gently_"

"Since when did you learn that word Wheeljack?"

"Come on everyone don't start arguing now, there isn't really a point in it, is there? We will wake him up later; he isn't needed desperately now so let's just let him rest"

..._Rise and shine time..._

"No need," The cherry red mech mumbled through his folded arms shocking everyone from their conversation as he slowly raised his heavy helm; hissing at the bright lights that suddenly hit his optics. Moving a clawed servo to shield his optics, he slowly stumbled to his pedes. "You already woke me up...a while ago actually".

Moving from his position by the table and stool, Knock out shuffled towards the group stretching his arms out as he did so. As the fog from his optics began to clear, he saw the only ones that were not present were Bulkhead and Ultra Magnus.

_...strange..._

"I presume that our _beloved _Commander is resting still?" Knock out croaked, his voice raspy from just awakening from recharge "And the green stout Wrecker is where exactly?"

Wheeljack sent a death glare towards the cherry red mech when he mentioned his friend in such a way. Bulkhead wasn't the most agile, _or_ light-footed for that matter but saying he was large and overweight was a dangerous path for Knock out to take. He wanted to slice Knock out's sick and twisted arrogance clean off and if it weren't for the fact that Ratchet was closely eyeing him from the corner of his optic, he would. Wheeljack couldn't afford another vast dent to the helm.

"That green stout Wrecker you're referrin' to is called Bulkhead and unless ya' want a date with my katana, I suggest ya' pipe down" Wheeljack growled.

Knock out said nothing but his processor was far from silent; it was teeming with multiple threats to say to the rambunctious Wrecker. His gaze swiftly met Wheeljack's and he held it for a few moments. His demeanour was typical of a Wrecker; impudent and very quick-tempered. That is what to be expected of him though. Aggression towards anyone who says anything unacceptable about a fellow Wrecker was common among the daredevil like group. The Wreckers were nothing more than a group of bachelor thrill seekers who treated their associates like siblings; brothers.

_...oversensitive mech..._

"Knock out!"

Knock out immediately snapped out of his trance when Ratchet shouted his name. He kept zoning out constantly! It was as if something was always dragging him into his imagination and causing him to space out. It wasn't right; it wasn't him.

"Ahhh...yes _dear doctor_ I was merely..."

Knock out didn't have time respond as the monitor started flashing as its sirens began sounding loudly. Arcee walked over to the large sounding computers as Ratchet, Bumblebee, Smokescreen and Knock out trailed her. Wheeljack needed some space, some time alone to console himself after his impudent encounter with Knock out and decided to calm himself in his shared quarters. The rambunctious Wrecker punched in the passcode to his shared room and instantly the door slid open to reveal his quarters just how he and Bulkhead had left it. He stepped inside as he heard the door click shut behind him. The room was pretty simple; two berths, one obviously bigger than the other, a desk in between them littered with datapads and a cabinet at the end of each berth, Wheeljack's cabinet containing his favourite energon drink: Visco, a strong yet satisfying form of high-grade. Turning to his small cabinet, he slowly opened it and grabbed the first Visco cube he saw. He then slowly hobbled to his berth and gradually sat down. Ratchet had told him to rest himself like Ultra Magnus was currently doing but Wheeljack didn't approve of being stuck in one position and staring at the wall. Slowly, he raised the cube to his lip components and he took a long _slurp_ of visco from the cube. The sensations he received from the high-grade were immense and sent shivers up and down his spinal strut.

_...This was some fragging electrifying Visco..._

Meanwhile, the blue femme was quickly tapping various keys on the keypad to find the cause for the alarms to be blaring. The alarms rarely seemed to sound now that they had returned to Cybertron and it was usually just a member of the team asking for a groundbridge after their routine patrols but as Arcee brought up the cause, it wasn't what they all expected...

"Hmmm...It would seem that an acid rain storm just hit the south of the region of Stanix, a large storm by the looks of things. The readings say the acid PH is quite strong," Arcee pressed a few keys which brought up a map showing where the storm currently was and pointed to the multicoloured image of the storm. "See that the acid storm is mostly red or orange on this map? Red and orange are the two strongest of PH's when shown in colour like this. Red is the most acidic being PH1 while the orange is the second most acidic on the PH scale at PH2. Hopefully if and when it hits us, the acidity of the storm will be weaker and may possibly be a neutral PH of PH7 or 8. But then again, the course of the storm may not be anywhere near our base..."

The region of Stanix was an unforgiving landscape; one in which a Cybertronian would rather smelt in a smelting pool than visit. The area of Stanix expanses across the south-west of Cybertron and is a blasted, relentless landscape; contaminated by neutronic fallout, wracked by earthquakes, freak weather conditions, and of course acid rain. The neutronic fallout in the Acid Wastes can produce severe allergic reactions in some Cybertronians which is why many stayed as far away from there as possible during the War for Cybertron. Many felt normal when they groundbridged there but they soon realised that this was not the case. Many said it was the gate to hell itself but many who were affected by the neutronic fallout in the Acid Wastes did not live to tell the tale...

"Arcee, what is the percentage of the storm dying out before and if its hits us?" Ratchet asked the blue femme, his optics glued to the monitor with his arms crossed. The femme turned back to the keypad, following Ratchet's orders and bringing up a different screen on the monitor.

"The computer says the percentage is thirty five but there's no readings saying that it will or won't hit us..."

"I really need to upgrade the sensitivity of this infernal computer," The chief medical officer mumbled under his breath, walking off to the medical bay and out of sight "...blasted limited resources..."

Arcee sighed, bringing up the map of the storm again before turning around to face the three mechs watching her. Being second in command again, Arcee was in charge when Ultra Magnus wasn't present so while the Commander was recovering from him injuries, she had to make sure that the designated patrols still occurred as well as various other things.

"Bee, Smoke you have your patrol when Bulkhead comes back, so be ready for it," Arcee informed the pair and they nodded. Then she turned to face Knock out who glared at her with his narrowed crimson disked optics, awaiting his duties. "Knock out, you have monitor duty so don't use it to buff your finish, got it? Just put reports into the correct file and monitor the storm activity, if that's not to "strenuous" for you..."

"Ohhhh I see, I have to be told extra snippets of information do I?!" The cherry red mech hissed at the femme. "They don't need to be told anything extra do they? So why do I?!"

Arcee pushed past Knock out, stopping next to him to say: "...Because I trust them more than you..."

_...This was going to be a long orbital cycle..._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The time seemed to whizz by and Smokescreen's and Bumblebee's patrol arrived quicker than they anticipated. Bulkhead slowly wandered through the swirling portal with a scanner in his servo. He obviously hadn't found anything. Upon hearing his heavy pedefalls, Knock out turned his helm slightly from his position at the monitors as he watched Arcee out of the corner of his ruby disked optics walking up to her friend.

"Well, did you find anything Bulk?" She inquired standing in front of him.

The large green Wrecker allowed his helm to fall downcast, an obvious sign for a _no._ "Na, I didn't find anything. I honestly thought I would find something or maybe someone but everything out there is so...quiet. Something doesn't feel right..."

"Cybertron's still scarred Bulkhead and it will take time to heal. But it **will** be different; once something like what occurred here happens it will reluctantly be forgiven but never **_forgotten_**" The chief medical officer stated stepping out from his medical bay and joining the pair.

What Megatron and his followers inflicted upon Cybertronian soil was in many optics unforgivable. Countless lost their lives trying to protect the younglings but then again, children don't belong in war. Close bonds were shattered and love was torn apart. Couples were forced into joining both sides of the war and were made to fight each other. The Great War for Cybertron changed everyone whom fought in it; once happy souls crumbled under the Decepticons mighty hunger for world domination of Cybertron. Fires were a constant sight as were the burning corpses that lay within their devastating flames. Screams, howls and cries of pain filled the thick dominating air as assassins attacked their prey in cold-blood. As rapidly as the events of Great War for Cybertron occurred, everyone suddenly seemed to vanish. By that point, only the charred remains of former Autobots and Decepticons greeted the everlasting orbital cycles as the gradually passed. The sun like everything and everyone else had disappeared. Only the murky skies and the occasional stars would greet the dead planet and its carrion.

"Well I for one can't wait until everything's back to normal. With all the young sparklings running about we will have our work cut out," Smokescreen smiled enthusiastically as walked up to the groundbridge controls activating the groundbridge to the location where him and Bumblebee would be going on their patrol. Hearing the vortex turning on, Smokescreen shouted over to his black and yellow friend. "Come on 'Bee, let's get this patrol on the road"

Bumblebee almost immediately leapt from his corner where he was reading a datapad and jumped towards his beckoning friend. He gave the datapad he had borrowed to the chief medical officer and joined his friend as they jogged through the groundbridge. Once they had completely disappeared through the groundbridge, Ratchet placed the datapad into his subspace before he unhurriedly walked over to the groundbridge controls and deactivated the vortex. Upon doing so, a satisfying hum emitted from the groundbridge as the green swirling object vanished.

Knock out watched the old medi-bot tinkering with the groundbridge controls with a smug grin on his faceplates. The cherry red mech would rather drive through Nevada's dusty desert then look at the monitors for what seemed to him like an eternity. But Ratchet wasn't a blind or a stupid mech and knew that he was being observed.

"Are you of need of assistance Knock out? Or do you always smirk at people when you watch them?" Ratchet mumbled not taking his optics off of his work.

Knock out's smirk grew as he replied with a sinister-like snicker. "Assistance? From a rusty burnout like you?! HA! Don't make me laugh..."

This comment made Ratchet's fists begin to itch slightly as he shuddered in rage. He didn't bother to stare at the vain mech fully but out of the corner of his optics he saw his cherry red helm turn back to the monitors.

_...Good riddance..._

Recalibrating the groundbridge controls was an important procedure and needed to be done every other orbital cycle at the most. It was to ensure that the groundbridge's went to the exact coordinates given instead of being a few mechanometers away. It was a task that he didn't really enjoy but explaining that to Ultra Magnus; he'd rather work non-stop for one hundred joors than tell Ultra Magnus about what he likes and dislikes. His lectures were even longer and drearier than Optimus Prime's!

_...It really was going to be a long orbital cycle..._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sun glided gracefully across Cybertron's landscape as the shadows from the derelict buildings instinctively followed its lead. The light from the sun created an everlasting mirror of wonder upon the chrome surface. Its heat made the metal of the planet warm and soothing to the touch. Orbital cycles like this were never made to be missed and thankfully this weather made standard patrols more engaging and thrilling.

_...Well for the majority..._

"Smokescreen," A young voice shouted as an almighty screech of tyres echoed off the nearby surroundings. An enthusiastic rev of a vehicle engine enticed the "shouter" into racing across the flat strip of land.

NO! This was a patrol, not some joy riding occasion. But it had been **so **long; so long since he had had this wide and long open space to burn rubber. A desert was hardly the place for racing especially an organic one. The dust and the sand was a right pain and tended to get stuck in every nook and cranny. It was such a nuisance!

The speeding vehicle in front of him was trying to get him to race; he was trying extremely hard not to give into the temptation but it wasn't exactly easy. The blue and yellow sports car was swerving left and right trying to drag the other into a little joy riding session.

"Smokescreen! Stop gallivanting please!" The black and yellow Urbana squealed as the other sports car broke hard in front of him.

Pulling up beside him, Smokescreen chuckled loudly to himself: "Aww lighten up Bumblebee I'm just messing around! You remember what fun is don't 'ya?"

"Of course I remember what fun is! It's just your version of fun is different from mine" Smokescreen only laughed at Bumblebee's comment, much to his dismay.

Bumblebee was right in the fact that standard patrols had to be carried out correctly; explicitly even. Time for tom foolery would come but protocol remained; regardless of the fact that the black and yellow Urbana hungered for nothing more than a few joors or maybe perhaps an orbital cycle to really put the pedal to the metal. This hope; this desire would never be granted wilfully; Ultra Magnus would never allow it on any terms whatsoever.

But Smokescreen was not wrong either; everybody needed an opportunity to have freedom once in a while. To mess around or possibly even go joy riding would most definitely suffice. In Smokescreen's case however, he would much rather "burn rubber" than go on any stupid patrol. The way he looked at it, routine patrols were a complete waste of time and instead of having to go on them three times an orbital cycle, the time could be used on something he preferred such as socializing.

The two sports cars continued their journey through the derelict cities of the newly resurrected planet each one as destroyed as the previous if not worse. They had been to Simfur, Gygax, Kalis and Vos; all of which were accompanied by eerie silences. The only sounds had been their steady pedefalls when they were investigating closer and their engines when they were driving; these noises only made the bitter silences horrify them even more.

But now they were on the very edge of Polyhex, one of the most ravaged cities on Cybertron. Many battles between the Autobot and Decepticon factions left the once popular second city on Cybertron in ruins. Plentiful smelting pools, gladiatorial facilities and even a stronghold was "provided" by Megatron himself to ensure his troops were properly trained and schooled in combat and the smelting pools were for the plentiful executions of any Autobot or Decepticon traitor who was stupid enough to get caught in the act.

"I've never been to Polyhex before. What about you? Have you been here 'Bee?"

Bumblebee dodged a little left and right on his tyres, trying to recall if he had _ever _been to Polyhex. Even though Bumblebee was a young warrior, he had been on many missions upon Cybertron before they left for Earth. The Mission he accepted to go to Tyger Pax was and always would be the most memorable for the young warrior.

Pain...So, so, SO MUCH PAIN!

It had felt as if his very life was being squeezed out of him! What scared him the most is that had been Megatron's objective. All because he would not tell the warmonger certain information regarding Autobot battle movements and consequently paid the ultimate price.

"Hey Bumblebee!" Smokescreen bellowed while beeping his horn. "Have you got a glitch in your audio receptors or something?!"

Bumblebee gasped loudly before breaking hard with a long high-pitched squeal from his tyres. His vents were swift and short as he desperately tried to make his spark cease its hard, heavy pounding. What was Smokescreen's problem?! Scaring him senseless like that! After finally regaining his breath, he saw Smokescreen spinning around with his brakes slammed on. The smoke from his tyres covered the back of him like a thick blanket.

Bumblebee growled lowly in frustration before swiftly transforming and marching towards his "friend". He was going to pay. Before Bumblebee reached Smokescreen, the blue and yellow sportscar transformed, coughing from the smoke he had created. From his position on the floor, Smokescreen could see Bumblebee drawing closer to him with an extremely annoyed look on his faceplates.

_...Yep, he was definitely scrapped..._

"You nearly gave me a spark attack Smokey!" Bumblebee snapped. "If you would've given me a nanosecond or two, maybe I would've given you an answer. I was trying to think but you didn't really give me time to," The black and yellow Urbana gazed down at his friend with a smug smirk on his lip components. "Oh come on Smokescreen, of course I've been to Polyhex! I don't exactly know when and for what purpose but I know a decent amount about this place. Haven't you ever been here?" Bumblebee offered his servo for his friend to grasp hold of and with a firm grip and a little tug; Smokescreen was back on his stabilizing servos.

"Well...no...But I've heard it was a pretty cool place before it started raining Decepticons; Cybertron's second city, am I right?" Smokescreen replied nudging Bumblebee's shoulder plating with his fist. "I was just curious you know?"

The two mechs smiled at each other. Bumblebee was definitely the more mature mech out of the pair even though Smokescreen was slightly older; only by a fraction however. Smokescreen was just a bit of a thrill seeker; an impatient and an occasionally over eager one. The reason for Smokescreen being immature was probably something to do with him not being on team Prime and under Optimus Prime's watch for as long as Bumblebee had been.

A strong wind suddenly blasted from nowhere startling the pair. It hit the two hard from behind and caused them to face straight ahead at the large main bridge into Polyhex; an uncertain path into the unknown of the abandoned city of Polyhex. The tall buildings loomed over Bumblebee and Smokescreen casting large spectral shadows over them; wrapping them in a tight constricting blanket of uneasiness. If it wasn't the gloomy shadows that sent terrifying shivers up their backstruts, it was the eerie silence that followed the bizarre sudden breeze. Nevertheless, they had a patrol that had to be completed no matter how spooky Cybertron's former second city looked or appeared.

"I thought places were supposed to be creepy at night, but Polyhex would give me the chills anytime..." Smokescreen said softly his tenseness obvious through his voice. He stepped past his friend activating one of his cannons as he did so. The blue and yellow mech stopped when the wind whistled loudly in his audio receptors. Something wasn't right. Everything was ominous, freaky and overall...wrong. The atmosphere began to transform slowly into an unpredictable one.

"We're still getting used to our planet being like this Smokescreen, most places will seem creepy at first but when everything's rebuilt and everyone comes back, it'll all be back to normal...you'll see" Bumblebee smiled patting Smokescreen's arm before pulling out a scanner from subspace.

Upon turning the small device on, it instantly started bleeping. It would alert the two mechs if energon was in close range or if someone of Cybertronian origin was in close proximity. Cautiously, Bumblebee and Smokescreen began to gradually cross the lengthy bridge into Polyhex minding to watch for any holes upon it caused by bombs and other explosions during the war. Bumblebee kept his optics focused upon the small scanner while Smokescreen closely tailed him jumping at any minute sound. Their footfalls echoed heavily over the bridge's surface; everything was too quiet to either of their likings.

It would have been different if the pair had been on this bridge during the war; Polyhex wouldn't have been this scarily mute or hushed like it was now. There would've been loud thundering explosions well into the night cycle and screams emitting from every direction through the mysterious mists that acted like a barrier almost as if the long dead Primus had somehow tried to separate the factions. For the metallic planet to become unexpressed all of a sudden wasn't easy to comprehend.

Bumblebee gradually pointed the scanner in multiple directions trying to detect any energon or life signals. Since the formula for synthetic energon was nearly completed, the urgency for regular standard energon wasn't very high; though the green liquid still needed further trials before they could even consider using it on themselves for medical reasons or natural consumption. Wheeljack just wanted Maccadam's Old Oil House to rebuilt and reopened so that he could chug down their finest strongest high-grade.

_...Well that's what he claimed anyways..._

But like Ultra Magnus, the rambunctious Wrecker still had injuries that needed time to heal before he could even think about driving anywhere. Wheeljack however, was more stubborn when it came to medical orders from Ratchet. He moaned and whined about _every_ little thing Ratchet asked him to do; most of these were just simply stretches.

Bumblebee processor flipped over to the newest member of Team Prime. The most vainest, self-centred and egotistic mech that he had ever met...

_...Knock out...his former Decepticon rival..._

He had proved himself by whacking Starscream with the immobilizer and in turn saving the black and yellow Urbana. Though his narcissistic nature always seemed to get in his way and he still didn't defend others in the field; he was still too concerned about his safety than anyone else's; a typical trait of a Decepticon but definitely **NOT** an Autobot. Knock out didn't approve of training in the training hall for numerous reasons the most popular being: he didn't want his finish scraped or dented. The cherry red mech must've thought that as the war was over, he had no need to train for there would be no battles but it was still early days considering the war had only just drawn to a conclusion.

As much as it would be ideal for Knock out to change his ways and help the others like everyone else did; Bumblebee doubted Knock out would ever change in that sense...

The newly dubbed warrior's thoughts came to a halt when an overpowering stench wafted into his olfactory sensors. The odour caused him to choke it was _so_ revolting and it just suddenly appeared quite randomly. Bumblebee and Smokescreen had now finished trekking across the bridge and now a large fallen building was blocking their path. They'd have to climb over the horizontal structure but the overwhelming smell was forcing them back.

Bumblebee turned his helm to gaze over his right shoulder plate at his friend only to see Smokescreen with one servo over where his olfactory sensors were located in disgust as his faceplates continued to scrunch up under his servo.

"Augh! What is that smell! I think it's going to make my systems glitch!" The blue and yellow sports car groaned in annoyance.

Bumblebee moved his arm to his helm and buried his faceplates in it, sharing his friend's aggravation. "I haven't the foggiest of ideas but whatever it is, it's more than likely on the other side of this building and that's our patrol course so hold your intakes or vent through your mouth components".

The black and yellow Urbana, without another word, jogged over to the horizontal structure and began picking out a route to ascend the building. Once he had found the easiest route for himself, he placed his scanner in his subspace and began to climb the demolished structure leaving Smokescreen with a dumbstruck expression. Removing his free servo from his faceplates, he shouted: "You can't possibly be serious 'Bee, the structure of that building is clearly not stable, you'll fall!".

As Bumblebee grasped hold of a steel bar that was bent outwards towards him, he allowed a smirk to glide onto his lip components. "You told me to lighten up a little Smokey," He replied loudly not bothering to stop climbing or turn around to face him. "Besides the quicker you start moving, the quicker...this...Oof! Patrol ends".

Smokescreen just stared at his friend in awe. When did he start taking thrill-seeking lessons from Wheeljack? Smokescreen didn't want to be responsible for potential injuries Bumblebee was more than likely to cause upon himself.

"Fine fine I'm coming up!" The blue and yellow sports car shouted trying to ignore the vile odour that hung in the atmosphere as he jogged over to where Bumblebee had begun to climb as he deactivated his canon, and swiftly followed Bumblebee. Grunts and groans escaped their mouth components' as they both heaved themselves' up the side of the horizontal building.

"Remind me to tell Bulkhead to build thin buildings would you 'Bee?" Smokescreen grunted as a piece of rubble bounced off his helm. Bumblebee merely chuckled softly to himself as he finally reached the top of the horizontal demolished structure. Carefully, he placed his servos onto the ledge one at a time before lifting himself over the ridge to sit at the top. Surprisingly, the side of the building was barely scratched and all he could see were a few large dents; but nothing more. He slowly stood up, his back-strut to the ridge as he observed the building further.

_...Strange..._

"Hey 'Bee, you mind lending me a servo?" Smokescreen huffed startling his friend from his visual examination. Bumblebee gradually turned and crouched by the ledge as he grabbed his friend's servo with a firm grasp, heaving him over the edge. After they had both collected themselves', they rose to their stabilizing servos' in unison as the gazed at the peculiar terrain.

"Kind of weird how this is the only side of the building that we can see that isn't all ruined. Still it's got some pretty serious dents that could easily pass as craters from Earth's moon!" Smokescreen said enthusiastically. "I'd watch your footing if I were you pal..." The blue and yellow sports car carefully began manoeuvring himself over to the other side of the building, minding to step lightly. His marginally smaller counterpart however merely sighed and rolled his optics in irritation. There was always a boundary in how much one person could say but shortly after Bumblebee and Smokescreen were acquainted, the black and yellow Urbana quickly realised that this was not the case.

Bumblebee swiftly remembered that he had placed his scanner in his subspace and carefully grabbed it to see that the bleeping it was emitting was high-pitched and more frequent than before. A smile spread across Bumblebee's faceplates, the results from the scanner could only mean one of two things: energon or another Cybertronian. The first option he preferred a great deal more but now that the war was over...a former Decepticon rogue or charlatan was the last thing anybody needed; Starscream being the clearly obvious topper of "option" list. As irritating and vexatious as Starscream was, he had proved himself more than once that he was capable of straying from Megatron's wrath. He could still not believe that the treacherous Seeker had been sheer footfalls away from joining the Autobot cause; thankfully Starscream's sick and twisted bragging brought that proposal to an obvious decision. He had injured Arcee infinitely that orbital cycle and it was a painful reminder in that you should never place Starscream in a position where he can be allowed to be unpredictable, even for just a nanosecond.

"Smokey!" Upon hearing his name, Smokescreen turned around to listen to his counterpart. "I've got a weak pulse and it seems to be coming from-," Bumblebee swayed the device slightly. "That way" Bumblebee stretched out a digit straight ahead of him as he made his way to the over side of the building, to stand next to Smokescreen. Both of them simultaneously glanced down at the more perilous side of the horizontal structure before them. They were either going to have to jump, which could cause possible and severe injuries in their leg joints...or...well there wasn't really another option.

"I am **NOT** jumping"

"Wha-?! Smokescreen you leapt off of the Nemesis that was miles in the sky and you are telling me that you aren't capable of jumping off of this!"

"It was different at the time! I didn't have a fraggin' choice Bumblebee!"

"And you don't have a "_fraggin'_" choice now either!"

Smokescreen stared at his friend with a dumbstruck expression. Bumblebee now stood with his arms folded, his large orb-like optics narrowed and his stabilizing servo was tapping the strange terrain. He looked like a very discontented carrier and a hormonal Ratchet at the same time.

_...quite the combination..._

Smokescreen gulped nervously, his cohort had really changed since...their leaders' demise; rest Optimus's spark. Bumblebee had matured considerably in such a short space of time; it actually scared Smokescreen in that his closet buddy was ultimately drifting away from him. All of their crazy joy riding and gallivanting were beginning to become nothing more than a distant memory. The absurd mini stories they'd tell each other and how the human charges' and they would roar with gleeful fits of laughter when they successfully pulled a prank on Ratchet. Those memories happened for a purpose; Smokescreen and Bumblebee had been like brothers and truly inseparable. Everything happens for a reason no matter how big or small, and all of those prodigious events, Smokescreen would never forget.

"Well are you jumping or not?!" Bumblebee asked impatiently, his large optics narrowing even more. Smokescreen was about to reply when the repugnant smell that had caused them to gag and heave earlier wafted back into their olfactory sensors without warning. The intensity of the rancid stench; this sickening aroma was somewhat utterly unbelievable and caused the two mechs to rapidly lift a servo to where their olfactory sensors were centred. The urge for them to purge their tanks was very, very high...

The blue and yellow sports car finally managed to speak but it came out as a gravelly groan: "Augh! Well at least I have a better excuse now. That...whatever it is reeks like the pit!"

"Trust me Smokescreen; your excuse is now one hundred percent legit!" Bumblebee muffled from behind his servo. "...And I have to agree that stench is revolting, but what is it?"

"Don't know and definitely don't care! Here's an idea, let's get as far away from here as physically possible preferably back to base! Or unless you want me to purge my morning's rations all over you!"

Bumblebee allowed an irritated grumble escape his lip components from behind his servo. Smokescreen was extremely stubborn when it came to making decisions; generally when he made one, he often stuck by it. The black and yellow Urbana was about to mumble a reply when an unmistakable sound drifted through the air as it bounced off of the ruins of the long deserted buildings. Both Bumblebee and Smokescreen gazed straight ahead in confusion as they almost instantly knew that sound.

It was the sound of retching...

This only meant one thing; the two young mechs were not alone here in Polyhex. Both Smokescreen and Bumblebee stared at each other and in unison said an appropriate choice of wording.

"_Oh_** scrap**"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Ultra Magnus unhurriedly onlined his blue optics as the dim light setting he had set the lights at invaded his optic sensors. It didn't take at all long until he could fully open his optics without them stinging from the sudden light. He abhorred not being able to take part in patrols or organising them like his second in command, Arcee, had been doing in his absence. He respected both Ratchet's and Knock out's medical views and opinions but surely by now he was at least allowed to take over monitor duty for a joor or two at a time. But Ratchet's stubborn and dominate ways always snapped him back to "reality".

He would've hoped that the pain in his leg would've miraculously disappeared after his power-down but to his dismay, his leg was still dully throbbing. Sighing in defeat, the tall commander cautiously sat up and slowly turned to dangle his legs over the side of his large berth. It was now that the commander felt at an all time low. He had to be strong as no doubt Optimus Prime was watching him...staring at him with pity evident in his wise looking optics. Team Prime needed for him to be a strong alert leader just like Optimus had been.

The commanders' optics scanned over his room to find that nothing had changed; much to his relief. Ultra Magnus's berthroom was the largest in their new base as he'd had the first pickings. It had its benefits however; inside, he had a decent sized berth with a desk and obviously a chair and his berthroom was the only one with a private washrack. But due to his injuries, Ratchet had advised him to not to go in there in the event that he slipped and injured himself further.

A soft tapping interrupted Ultra Magnus's thoughts as he mumbled a low-pitched "come in". He heard four keys from his keypad lock being punched in from the outside before the door glided open. Ultra Magnus cast his optics towards the door to see Ratchet glaring back at him with his medical kit in his firm grip.

"I thought instead of you wasting your energy, I would come and give you a check-up in your quarters instead. Is that okay with you commander?" Ratchet asked as Ultra Magnus merely nodded. The chief medical officer sighed as he walked slowly into his quarters and placed his medical kit on his commander's desk which was currently stacked with datapad upon datapad. Ratchet scoffed at the sight of them all. Ultra Magnus was supposed to be resting himself not over working himself! "Commander Magnus, is all of this really necessary?! You are supposed to be recessing! If you wish to be back on the field, then you'll have to accept being inactive for a change..." The chief medical officer snapped, grabbing one of the many datapads and "waving" it in his Commander's faceplates before setting it back down with a _clink_.

"I do not mean to be rude Ratchet, but when will I be discharged from your care?" Ultra Magnus asked warily as Ratchet reached for his small LED torch and began examining Ultra's Magnus's optics.

"Epp epp epp!" Ratchet silenced him. "No talking while I am examining you...hmmm your optics appear fine just follow the light...very good...your optics both seem to be functional"

Ultra Magnus did not wish to irritate the old medi-bot further and decided best to remain silent for the rest of Ratchet's "investigation". During which Ratchet uncovered that the Commander's upper manual dexterity was more or less perfect if it was not for a few stiff joints, but that could be easily taken care of.

"Now let's see how your wound is healing up..." Ratchet thought aloud, transforming his servo into a welder and readying it to remove the metal plate covering Ultra Magnus's wound.

"Do you not first need to deactivate my pain receptors?" The Commander asked rather quickly just as Ratchet's welder began its work. Ratchet pulled away and gazed up at his Commander, confusion evident in his optics.

"Does it bother you that they are still active Commander?"

Ultra Magnus avoided his gaze and glanced at the floor as if it held great interest, which it clearly didn't. The Commander was no stranger to pain but Medical pain was one thing he was wary and cautious of. He had seen countless soldiers die on a medical berth before his very optics as the Medical officers that had been present could not do anything to save them. He knew it didn't hurt as much as battling a Decepticon did but, the mental side of Medical care seemed to set him into a state of uneasiness.

"I believe that the War for Cybertron played a greater part in my processor than I first anticipated doctor, that's all"

Ratchet's optics widened in shock. Was Ultra Magnus...afraid? The world renowned Commander that was trained by Optimus Prime, the leader of the Wreckers, the no nonsense second in Commander at one point was afraid of a mere simple procedure?!

_...Now this was going to be very interesting indeed..._

**Well that wraps up chapter two folks and I really hope you enjoyed it**

**Your reviews and queries about this fic will be greatly appreciated but until Chapter three...I'll be seeing 'ya!**

**-shadybabe101 signing off**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm ALIVE! Watch me rise from my mountains of school work!**

**Ahem...(facepalm)**

**Sup ya'll!**

**While I've been away I have been doing tons of homework and preparations' for some assessments and whatnot so I apologise for that; if you wish to blame someone, blame the United Kingdom's Government! Any who, I have also recently watched Calamity Jane the musical, please don't ask me why because it's a looooong story. Surprisingly it is actually really good XD **

**SOOO in "today's issue" we elaborate on some of the events that have already occurred and you all get to meet a **_**special someone**_

**So sit back, relax and I really hope you enjoy chapter 3 of Doctor Daycare!**

Ratchet's befuddled expression remained as his processor was teeming with questions he knew he would have difficulty answering. The chief medical officer of the Autobots' was definitely no stranger to having a 'bot slightly anxious when it came to a check-up but he wouldn't have expected Ultra Magnus to fall into _that_ category. The new leader of the Autobots' was a figure of integrity and virtue, there was absolutely no doubt about that. But what Ratchet couldn't quite contemplate was that Ultra Magnus avoided his gaze when he answered him. Did that mean that he was...embarrassed? Ashamed even? It was hard for the old medical officer to swallow; but then again, Ultra Magnus may have had other reasons for his uneasiness.

"Ultra Magnus, this treatment does not require me to deactivate your pain receptors but if that is what you would like, I will deactivate them," Ratchet asked, trying to reassure his leader. "I can promise you now that you watching the procedure is making you think that it will be painful but if you look away I can guarantee you will only feel a minute sensation".

Ultra Magnus' helm slowly flicked around to gaze upon his medical officer glancing up at him from his kneeling position. A hesitant small smile found its way upon to the Commanders' lip components' as a sign of acknowledgement and gratitude.

"Now, may I continue sir?" Ratchet asked marginally returning his leaders' smile and trying to retain the positive mood between the two. Ultra Magnus thought for a moment about this; Ratchet tended to tell people how things were, regardless of what they wanted to hear. Did he really need his pain receptors deactivating? Was it really that necessary? He would have like to tell himself he didn't but the vexatious thought remained.

"Yes _Doctor_, you may continue...but before you do, I have concluded that it would be diplomatic of you to deactivate my pain receptors" Ultra Magnus replied hesitantly as Ratchet transformed his servo back from his welder and carefully began to deactivate his leader's pain receptors without reluctance. After a few moments of tweaking, Ratchet had finally deactivated Ultra Magnus's pain receptors and the Commander began to feel numbness glide across his frame at a quick yet steady pace.

The chief medical officer then gently tapped the larger Autobot's leg plating to ensure that his pain receptors had truly deactivated. Seeing that the Commander did not flinch, Ratchet continued his Medical endeavours by transforming his servo into a welder once again. When the welder made contact with the strip of metal, various bright sparks flew and danced in the air. As Ratchet worked he began to imagine what Ultra Magnus's laceration looked like now. It had been covered up now for what seemed like an eternity to both the Commander and the Medic.

_...But whatever happened, deep down Ultra Magnus knew he was in safe and capable servos..._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Knock out was bored...

No, that was an utter and complete understatement of what Knock out was currently feeling.

Monitor duty was nearly as bad as receiving a fatal blow to his finish and paintjob; well no, nothing could beat that...He'd spent the majority of his assigned job filling his claws with a file he had found in Ratchet's tool box when no one was looking. He would've received a painful blow to the helm if he would've been caught by unwanted prying optics. If he continued to file his elongated digits anymore he would have no actual digits left; not a very good function for a medical officer.

During his duty, Knock out _had_ actually worked, but only for about a joor and a half. He had categorized all of the reports typed in into the orbital cycle they were computed and who had typed them. He also regularly checked the computers, as instructed, to see the whereabouts of the acid rain storm, and to his dismay, it was drawing nearer quite significantly everytime he checked.

The only noises Knock out could hear were the slow scrapes of his file and the occasional beeps of the computers. Everything besides that was far too quiet and hushed to the former Decepticon's liking. He was used to loud screams and threats from his former master at Starscream for not performing a certain task to his "tastes" as it were. Of course, that little youngling's tale always ended the way it had done previously; with Starscream battered and broken upon his medical berth. Knock out didn't care though; the seeker was nothing but a skinny charlatan, a whiny one at that too. How he was able to put with him for so long was far beyond him.

Starscream was undeniably a royal pain in the aft, with the entire drivel that came out of his mouth components. He strutted about as if he had run the place for primus's sake! What Knock out would've done to slice off that silver glossa of his; a mech like Starscream who didn't know how to use his glossa properly definitely didn't deserve it. Starscream was a vindictive, vicious and vile excuse of a mech who was the biggest failure in Decepticon history. The silver Seeker could quite easily pass for a femme any old orbital cycle with all of his bitching.

Now that it crossed the former Decepticon medic's processor, Starscream had appeared to have vanished into thin air. After Megatron had informed him that the Decepticon's were no more, Starscream undoubtedly went to seize Megatron's throne for himself. Honestly, if Starscream hadn't gone to Darkmount then it would seriously shock Knock out. He could imagine the Seeker sprawled out upon Megatron's former throne. It made him shudder strongly at the thought. Starscream couldn't lead fragging glitched antriods to a picnic let alone run the remainder of the Decepticons that could be bothered to fight another five hundred centuries of war. Besides, Medical officers' were lucky if they managed to get out of a battle unscathed so in essence, both Knock out and Ratchet were actually relative valuable. If Starscream was plotting to start up a war and demand Cybertron for himself, he would need a Medical officer. The lanky Seeker would more than likely contact Knock out for his assistance via his comm. link.

_...Yes, Starscream did possess Knock out's comm. link..._

Ha! If Starscream was stupid enough to attempt that, he would need more than a petty drone to protect him.

A loud scrape brought the cherry red mech to his senses as he quickly discovered the elongated talon he had been filing looked very, _very_ mangled. A frown rapidly formed upon his faceplates as a peeved grunt rippled out of his vocalizer.

"_Great,"_ He thought to himself "_Just peachy; I look like a fragged up frizz-rat now!"_

"You had better be working Knock out or I'll be forced to pound you back to the rust age," A feminine voice startled the cherry red mech from his mental ranting and he shrieked un_mechly_ in surprise, dropping the file in progress. He swiftly whizzed around to meet the piercing optics of Arcee glaring up at him with her famous fiery and intimidating gaze. Her blue and pink optics slowly glided downwards towards the file which she almost instantly recognised and sighed clearly angered at the vain doctor. "I guess stealing someone else's belongings is more your forte than what you're supposed to be doing. Monitor duty isn't all that bad you know but you actually have to look and pay your full attention the screens". Her tone softened as her optics fell back upon his faceplates, a small smile upon her lip components.

_...nice smile for such a reserved femme; time to charm it up once more Knock out..._

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a wonderful smile?" Knock out smirked, a servo making its way to his hip plating. Judging by Arcee's reaction and expression, it was blatantly clear that nobody had ever said it or not in a _long_ time. Her optics were wide in shock though Knock out couldn't quite comprehend why; surely she knew his character and personality by now, things like this definitely shouldn't be a surprise.

_...And yet to her it was..._

"I can see no one has told you that you have a beautiful smile in quite some time, _die Meize_" Knock out's smirk grew wider as Arcee's shocked expression turned into somewhat of a sad, ashamed expression. It was evident to the former Decepticon medical officer that the last person to have told her what he had was a certain deceased partner of hers. Drones were like a gossip super-highway during Knock out's time aboard the Nemesis. Most of their social gossips regarding the Autobots were indeed relatively accurate and Knock out questioned them sometimes regarding their "stories" about a certain "_sweet rims_". Allegedly, one of the drones most commonly known as J3553 or "Jesse" had knocked out the "Big Rig" with a tree that he tore from the ground. Knock out didn't believe it at first but another drone known as 3R1C or "Eric" confirmed it.

"Yes...it's been a while," Arcee replied awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. "So, where is the current location of the storm? You did at least do that didn't you, Knock out?"

"Well mein Schatz," Knock out purred. "The last time I checked the rain storm was heading towards Polyhex; I presume it will be raining there soon if not now".

"Wait! Polyhex?! Knock out, you do realise that Smokescreen and Bumblebee may be there! It was in their patrol route! Why didn't you tell anyone?!" Arcee practically roared at the red grounder who leapt slightly from her bizarre outburst. He had learned from his early years that you should never, _ever_ annoy or aggravate a femme because the results could be quite disturbing for a victim of a femme's rampage. Just as Knock out was about to snap back at her, she violently pushed past him and brought up the map of the acid rain storm and surprisingly, Knock out's observations were indeed correct. But that only made the azure femme even more angered. Swiftly, she attempted to comm. Bumblebee and fidgeted anxiously as she did so. What if he didn't reply? What if they were both in danger?! Finally, Arcee patched her side of the up and began her attempt to reach them, though she feared that static may corrupt it at any moment due to the storm being near their current, _possible _location.

_:Bumblebee, this is Arcee from Autobot outpost omega two, do you copy, over:_

Static.

_:Bumblebee do you read? This is Arcee at Autobot outpost omega two, do you copy, over?:_

_Static._

_:For Primus sake 'Bee, please! Do you copy?!:_

In a flurry of a panic she attempted to make contact with Smokescreen but only received the same results, much to her growing frustration. While Arcee continued to panic, Knock out watched her with his famous smirk sliding onto his lip components in a devious manner. Autobots and their strong concerns for others always seemed to baffle him. Why would you go and risk your functioning for another when the escape for you is easier? Knock out wasn't a ghoul in the slightest but seeing Arcee panic was quite a strange yet appealing sight for him. The way her frame moved in swift fluid movements as her trepidation escalated marginally was very, _very..._

_:Smokescreen! Do you copy?! ARGH! You talk enough in the base you manifold mouth and now you decide to start a vow of silence!:_

"Arcee! What is the meaning of this?!" A booming voice caught both Knock out and Arcee by surprise as they turned around to see none other than Ultra Magnus standing at the mouth of the corridor with an evident angered expression upon his faceplates. Ratchet, who had surprisingly not intervened, stood behind the wounded Commander but wore an unreadable expression as his optics focused on the cherry red mech and the azure femme.

"My apologies sir, Smokescreen and Bumblebee are not responding to their and I believe they may very well be in the acid rain storm's course. Knock out here was too busy filing his **claws** to even consider alerting either of them". Arcee replied standing straight to attention as she informed the Commander on the current situation. Knock out almost immediately snapped his helm around to face her when she told the large mech of his "filing session". So what if he decided to file his talons?! Was it really that much of a concern when he had actually worked during his assigned task?!

"An acid rain storm?!" Ultra Magnus raised his voice in shock. "Are you certain?"

Arcee nodded, glaring out of the corner of her vigilant optics at the still gaping mech to her left. He deserved every last punishment that Ultra Magnus was more than likely to bestow upon him. Knock out was more than stupid for allowing Smokescreen and Bumblebee to go further into their patrol unaware of the acid rain storm possibly being extremely close to them. If she had it her way, the former Decepticon medical officer wouldn't be anywhere near here! Instead he would be smelting in some smelting pit at the ruins of Darkmount.

"Yes Commander we are certain of it. It is believed that it first formed in the south of Stanix but I was unaware that its course was to pass over Polyhex. If I was however aware of its current course, I would not have allowed either of the two mechs to go on their routine patrol. We apologise for not informing you sooner Ultra Magnus, sir..." Ratchet spoke up moving to stand next to the larger mech who flicked his gaze downcast towards his chief medical officer. At least someone had the decency to explain things properly...

Ultra Magnus sighed, clearly taken back by what he had just been told. His piercing gaze gradually moved from the old medi-bot to the main and central computer screen which had an image of Bumblebee and Smokescreen with two "error-disrupted connection" symbols next to their names. It definitely was not a good sign. He shouldn't be panicking over mechs not responding to their when the Great War had finally drawn to a conclusion; neither of them should. That's when he noticed Knock out, who was now glaring daggers at Arcee in a menacing manner while she merely watched her Commander, intrigued by what he would do to handle this problem and bring both mechs "home" _safely_.

"Knock out?" The tall Commander queried. "Is it true that you were cognizant of the acid rain storm that neither of you bothered to inform me about? Do you not comprehend the scope of this?! I think you really need to consider who you really are and where you really belong, Soldier! This is not a game and it has never been one so start treating this as life rather than a festivity! You pride yourself in your appearance yet you have not changed in the slightest! If you_** have**_ aligned yourself with us, then you **will** act like an Autobot rather than some contemptuous bit-brain! Your attitude towards others is disgusting especially the way you spoke to Ratchet last night! In essence, if your temperament does not change soon, I will personally and permanently exclude you from the Autobot cause! Do I make myself clear Soldier?!"

The Commander's outburst shocked Ratchet and Arcee for it was a thing that he rarely demonstrated in front of others. Every point he made, he stepped or more appropriately put hobbled closer to the cherry red mech to punctuate his words so they sank into Knock out's processor. But as for Knock out, he was practically leaking litres of transmission fluid; his vermilion optics were wide with fear, his trembling mouth agape and his pedes slowly backing himself up trying to keep as far away from the considerably taller Commander as physically possible. It reminded him of bad experiences with not completing a certain task to Megatron's likings; how the brute of a mech would storm towards him in a threatening manner, his ruby and white disked optics practically ablaze with utter rage. All of a sudden, Knock out's back hit the computer's keypad edge as he knew that he could no longer run away as the towering angered figure of Ultra Magnus was still lumbering towards him. His fear seemed to go unseen by the Commander; he had no intention of harming the smaller mech but merely teaching him a little lesson by a certain disciplinary strategy. He was drawing closer, closer, closer...

_:A-arcee? Arcee do y-you copy? Over:_

The voice was full of static but was easily recognisable and unmistakable; Bumblebee. The speed of which the azure femme and the red and white mech shoved past Ultra Magnus and Knock out was marginally unbelievable but the Commander and the assistant medical officer said not a word.

_:Bumblebee?! Bumblebee are you and Smokescreen alright?:_

_:Arcee...are f-fine...what's...problem?:_

_:Bumblebee you need to get out of there now! The storm, it's heading your way! Give us the coordinates of your current position and we'll get you out of there a.s.a.p.:_

_:Calm down...763,901...the coordinates?:_

_:Bumblebee this is Ratchet, we are sending a groundbridge to 763,901 stand by:_

Ratchet moved towards the groundbridge controls and typed in the given coordinates and after a few moments, the swirling vortex was activated. Arcee stepped past her fellow mechs' and stood the closet to the groundbridge, anxiously waiting for her "younger brother" figures to arrive. She had learnt that growing too attached to certain mechs and femmes wasn't a good idea; for her anyways. Being robbed of _two_ partners by _two _former Decepticon Commanding Officers was an extremely hurtful topic for her to express let alone have next to her name. But Bumblebee and Smokescreen, she was attached to them differently. As a matter of fact, everyone in her team was all attached to her; as a family. Optimus had said that; that he saw his army, his team stranded on Earth as a family rather than troops. Honestly, they were always a family and deep down they all knew and still know it today.

The chief medical officer turned around from his position at the groundbridge controls and awaited the audible footfalls of the two youngest of their team to saunter through. The bizarre humming of the vortex was indeed a strange and peculiar sound but he would not be satisfied until he clearly heard their pedes scampering through. Then, finally he would be at ease, as he presumed the rest of the team would be...well the majority. Ultra Magnus carefully moved himself to stand next to Ratchet, leaving Knock out still as close to the computer keypad as one could get. The cherry red mech had no doubt in his processor that the Commander would speak to him later on; much to his growing discomfort. Knock out was seriously beginning to question his place on this team. What had motivated him to join the cause? Or was it just his fear driving him forward? Whatever it had been, he needed to find out soon. Only then would he know if he belonged here or in some scrap yard.

When the swirling vortex had finally opened, Smokescreen darted through without any hesitation whatsoever, leaving Bumblebee alone listening to eccentric whirring of the groundbridge portal. He was well aware that the acid rain storm was extremely close to his current location; the Urbana could feel it in the ever so slightly cooling air, but his curiosity seemed to have chained him in place. The retching sound, why did it suddenly matter and stop him in his tracks? Why should Bumblebee even care?

They had definitely heard the retching, Smokescreen and him, so was the disgusting odour linked to the discomforting sound somehow? But then if the vile stench had absolutely nothing to do with the retching, what had caused it? The young warrior's processor was teeming with questions, question he subconsciously knew the majority would go unanswered. His main question however was, who? Who was the one behind the repulsive spewing sounds? Was it an Autobot who had somehow ended up stranded upon Cybertron when everyone else had fled? Or was it a Decepticon who was unaware that the Great War for Cybertron was finally concluded?

"The war is over," Bumblebee told himself quietly. "...I shouldn't care about this, for all I know it could very well be a trap to lure me away from my current position".

He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave right then and there but he couldn't. His benevolent side was holding him back, much to his dismay. His CPU had appeared to have lost complete control over his movement and actions. Why him? Why now of all times did his legs and stabilizing servos refuse to function?! A sudden darkening shadow of the ever-nearing acid rain storm cloud cast itself over Bumblebee and the surrounding area like a constricting blanket of uncertainty.

"A-autobot!"

Bumblebee's spark froze in his chassis as an abnormal sensation glided through his circuits. A gruff voice had shouted him, beckoned him. It was a cross between a plea for help and a domineering order. It appeared distant but Bumblebee had a feeling it wouldn't stay distant. Without warning, Bumblebee's pedes darted forward as he sprinted through the vortex, hoping that what he had heard was nothing more than a tease.

_...Bumblebee of course was very wrong..._

As the groundbridge closed, a hulky darkened shadow moved from the corner of a mangled building, sharp digits grasping onto it as if its existence depended upon it. Glowing optics shone brightly from the darkness as the horrible retching sound emitted from its vocalizer. It collapsed onto its servos and knees on the arenose ground as its abdomen began palpitating, a sure if not obvious sign that the beast was about to purge its tanks. And purge its tanks it did, the undigested energon pooled out of its mouth components, leaving small rivulets of the vile smelling substance to swim down its chinplate. Now as its energy was more or less completely drained, the afflicted beast fell into the puddle beneath it of its own undigested energon. The beast's frame convulsed and almost writhed as its searing pain continued. The stench of the undigested energon was enough to make anyone purge their tanks but the beast had nothing left to purge. If Bumblebee was to have stayed a little while longer he would've definitely heard the retching again and smelted the vile stench once more, but maybe if he had heard this one word in the tone it was voiced, he would've stayed.

"_Help_"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After what had occurred at the Well of Allsparks, all around the surrounding area was relatively quiet and hushed. The Nemesis was still present, due to the fact that the Autobot's didn't have the current resources to move the colossal warship and it had sustained quite a fair bit of damage to one of its large engines. Originally, Bulkhead and the remaining Decepticon troopers were supposed to go to its crash-site and at least try to repair the damaged engine enough to get it out of the open, though that would've taken orbital cycles. However, the vast majority of the titanic ships' systems were still intact, even after the heavy crash landing it had sustained. Ratchet could connect into the ship's mainframe with just a few keys being pressed from the Autobots' new base, _which_ he was very proud of.

The former Decepticon warship had lifted quite a few plates off of Cybertron's metal surface. Now, the once orderly plates were lying erected and battered in multiple directions, and ultimately keeping the ship from falling into the Well. When the whistling winds glided across the flat strip of land, the former Decepticon warship would allow itself to creak in the form of a sigh. But when the winds ceased, the surrounding area fell into an eerie silence.

_...Until..._

Glowing turquoise round balls of wonder flickered online with a satisfying whirr; a small curious squeak closely followed. From under the darkness of the mangled plating neighbouring the Nemesis, a tiny creature was awakening from its power-down; the creature lay still, unsure as to whether it was safe to move. A series of clicks and beeps emitted next that sounded a lot like a tired sigh. The small being was all alone and had not seen anyone throughout its extremely short functioning. Did the others look like it did? Were there even any others? From the creature's perspective, Cybertron looked quite dull and morbid, not that it could seem a great deal from its dark refuge. It didn't have a reassuring aura about it that a youngling like itself needed. But how did it get here? If it had crawled into its shelter, it certainly didn't remember. In fact, the tiny creature didn't remember...anything. A sparklings memory was relatively poor but that was to be expected for they were still growing.

Curiosity for what lay beyond the creature's hideaway overwhelmed it and the small being clumsily attempted to move to the mouth of its refuge. It was the first time that it could thankfully remember of it trying to move around. But to the youngling's annoyance, moving around was a lot easier thought or said than actually done. Its first endeavour was a complete failure which resulted in the creature falling flat on its faceplates; the second and third endeavours drew up similar results. A shrill squeal of distress bubbled out of the tiny creature's mouth components as it tried for the fourth time to move towards the mouth of its hideaway, but to little avail. This was definitely a slow going process...

Maybe instead of crawling, shuffling would be more effective. The youngling chirped in glee as it slowly but steadily rose to its paws; it felt strange to stand, and now everything had a different aura and colour about it. The looming shadows of the outside world did not feel as threatening as they had done before. But now it came to the ultimate test. With no one present to aid the tiny creature in its attempts to move around, the youngling's only companions were its instincts. Carefully, the sparkling slid one of its front paws gradually in front of itself. Seeing this technique did not involve getting hurt, the tiny being slid one of its back paws forward at a similar speed as it had done with its front paw. Yet again, no injuries befell upon the youngling and the creature let out a symphony of happy chitters and chirps; but this little mission was far from over; two mere steps or "slides" were a clear achievement but not really noteworthy.

Once again, the sparkling slid its paw so it was level with its other front paw. Finally, it moved its last paw so it was level with its other back paw. One whole cycle had been completed and the youngling threw its helm back and howled in delight from its success. The small creature was that much closer to the outside world!

One paw...another paw...then another...and finally the last paw. This second cycle was marginally quicker than the first which brought a bizarre wave of happiness upon the youngling. Such a sensation in fact that the incredibly elated sparkling fell upon its aft with a loud **BUMP!** The small creature was quite taken back by this and let out a confused click. Maybe the little being had been a bit overeager? Or maybe overconfident was a better description? However, the set back did not seem to bother the youngling in the slightest and the creature cautiously rose to its paws once more.

It did not waste any time and repeated its odd walk cycle, if you could even call it that. Paw after paw slid across the shadowy surface of its hideaway until one of its paws landed upon something rather strange. It glistened on the surrounding land as if it had been sprinkled with millions upon millions of jewels.

_...Light..._

To the average person, light was but an extension of the passing of the days but to this youngling, it was the most magnificent thing it had ever witnessed. Not that it had witnessed a great deal...It now made the sparkling feel as if wherever there was this peculiar phenomenon known as "_light_", there was automatically protection and safety. The little creature was ecstatic with its find and squeaked in joy. Now, the sparkling's hideaway looked quite...dangerous?

Dark places were cold, so did that mean they were dangerous? The heat radiating from this light source did not feel dangerous in the slightest, so did that mean that wherever there was light, there was warmth and safety? The creature unhurriedly glanced behind itself with a shaky yet curious beep. Maybe it was time to investigate this peculiar terrain, the emerging shadows of the tiny being's refuge seemed to be shooing the youngling out. Though, the little creature was still unsure; all it had ever known was its hideaway, now its confidence began to dwindle. But the light was _so_ mesmerizing and comforting to the sparkling's frame. However, what would the tiny creature choose: Light? Or darkness? Warmth? Or cold? The youngling's helm flicked between its lair and the outside world. Such a difficult decision; trading all it had ever known for something it was completely oblivious about.

Letting a chirp that sounded like a sad sigh escape its lip components, the youngling slid a shaky front paw in front of itself and cautiously proceeded out into the unknown; out into the _light_. Its other paws gradually followed the first and finally its full frame was out in the open as the sun's rays tickled its entire body for the very first time. The creature slowly gazed back at its refuge, its expression and body language evidently showing that the youngling was wary. It now appeared even more frightening and even darker; though that wasn't physically possible. The youngling allowed a shudder to dance up and down its spinal strut. The sparkling then moved its helm and focused its turquoise optics forward. Where could the tiny being travel to? Would it even return from its miniature exploration? The small creature was unsure...

Taking a deep breath, the tiny being gradually and clumsily began to shuffle away from its refuge, though it had no destination in its petite processor to go to. It didn't know what planet it was located upon let alone the city-state! The plates keeping the Nemesis in its stable position had formed a treacherous maze of charred strips of chrome and metal that looked rather spooky to such a young being. A sparkling of this age certainly did not belong here. The tiny creature was ignorant at best, associating the sun's light and heat as automatic and guaranteed safety...We all are a tad naive and gullible when we are young though; for then we learn about the countless lies and deceptions that revolve around us as a never ending race.

A large plate creaked loudly and the small creature whimpered slightly trying not to fall and injure itself from the sudden shock. It was extremely hard for it to **not** _whimper _considering how tall and wide some of the plates really were. Feeling that much taller in its hideaway was great but now everything was glaring down at the youngling, it was unnerving and alarming. It was definitely an unwelcoming experience for the new comer. The small being began to shuffle a little quicker as the rest of the plates snickered in glee. They'd scared a little lone sparkling and were not finished yet. But they were not the ones who would be finishing the job so to speak; something completely different was gliding into view, something much, much larger; more demoralizing.

An aluminous light leapt into the sky with a group of midnight clouds in tow. Then there came the thunder...It roared ferociously throughout the sky as the now deeply concerned sparkling flicked it helm rapidly towards the sky, a mixture of trepidation and curiosity bubbled within the youngling. What was happening? _Why_ was it happening? The tiny creature could feel the thunder still vibrating in the ground through its paws even though the noise had ceased.

"Chirp?" It questioned, stopping its movements all together. Before the sparkling could question the strange phenomenon further, a titanic bolt of bright white lightning illuminated the sky as the tiny being watched the sun being eaten away by the dark clouds. The youngling allowed a cry to slither out between its lip components. By now, the small creature was visibly shaking after the disappearance of the light and heat source as it saw the sky to transform into a jet black blanket of horror. Everything was turning into an eerie darkness, the shadows that loomed over the sparkling a short while ago were vastly and swiftly expanding while merging with one another to make one colossal cloud.

The little creature began to hesitantly back away from the storm until its aft bumped up against a twisted and curved plate, causing the being to yelp wildly in surprise. Despite its sudden surprise however, the youngling did not move away from the plate and stayed as close to it as physically possible, trembling. As the storm drew rapidly nearer, the thunder almost instantly occurred after the lightning. Maybe the big wide world wasn't as friendly and convenient as the creature had first anticipated. It only took a matter of kliks before what seemed like the entire Hydrax Plateau was covered under the black clouds; much to the youngling's dismay.

_...Then..._

_Tip...tap...tippty-tap...tap...tip...tap..._

Another strange phenomenon was underway; an odd substance was falling...from the sky?! A red watery substance which made a "tap" or "tip" sound when it collided with the chrome and metal surfaces of the Hydrax Plateau. It was quite extraordinary to watch the liquid bounce and splatter upon the ground, the youngling was quite enthralled. That was of course until a droplet of the liquid spattered upon its helm. The coolness of it sent a shiver coursing through the tiny beings' frame. The sparkling moved its helm from its upright position so now its helm was facing forward. The droplet of liquid stopped descending down towards the back of the youngling's helm, and started trickling forwards towards its faceplates. The bead of liquid dribbled down in between the small creature's aqua marine optics as the sparkling crossed its optics to view it.

"_Grrr beep? Whirr cheap cheap, chirp" _It mumbled in fascination. The being's audio receptors heard the "tapping" and "tipping" noise increase marginally as other beads of the bizarre liquid started to splash upon the youngling's tiny frame. Its attention snapped back to the acid rain currently falling faster from the sky, the youngling completed forgetting about the bead of liquid between its optics. To the sparkling's annoyance its turquoise optics were dully throbbing from being fixed in an awkward position, though it did not know the reason for its pain.

The small creature could feel the liquid gliding down its frame and to the youngling, it felt extremely alien and outlandish. Yet again, the tiny being became curious as to what was happening and why was it occurring. It had never seen this peculiar spectacle before from the "safety" of its refuge, though even if it had occurred before the youngling would more than likely not remember.

The small creature flicked it helm around gradually to observe the droplets of acid rain splatter and gather upon it back. The smallest and simplest of things seemed to easily entice the youngling, causing it to fall into a trance. Rain to you and me of any kind is just another point to the list of life's bothers, but to this sparkling it was so much more. It was in its nature to be very curious about things; simple things that we don't give a second thought about. As the beads of liquid continued to swim down the tiny being's plating, a strange sensation rippled through its body.

Maybe it was more of an irritation? Or a bizarre itchy feeling? But whatever it was, the small creature was indecisive about it. It made multiple shivers gallop up and down its spinal strut. The youngling couldn't decide if it liked the feeling or one hundred percent loathed it. This was yet another tricky decision...The tiny being shifted fumblingly on its paws attempting to decide while being careful not to slip and fall. Did it welcome the sensation? Should it welcome this bizarre spectacle? It wasn't causing it any harm (_yet_) so surely that was a good thing, right? If things like the rain were bad then they would hurt the small creature surely. So, if the weird feeling didn't hurt then it was good...hopefully?

That was when the youngling spotted yet another aberrant anomaly. After abandoning its decision making, the tiny being had refocused its attention back in front of itself and that's when the small creature spotted it. A phenomenal crimson pool of some kind that when the rain touched it, it rippled into giant ring like shapes. If sparklings possessed the ability to voice their thoughts and feelings, then more than likely this one would have said something along the lines of "fascinating" or quite simply "**WOW!**"

Or maybe if the youngling was able to speak, it would find that it was completely and utterly lost for words. Its aqua marine optics looked quite literally ready to pop out from their sockets. The tiny being's mouth components were hanging open relatively wide as well; this sparkling was definitely dumbstruck. All of a sudden, as if a magical force had found its way into its equilibrium sensors, the youngling, quite rapidly stumbled forward. Despite the many times it fell down, the peculiar force never ceased and continued to harshly push it forwards.

The force was adrenaline; adrenaline, curiosity and excitement all combined together to create the strong force pushing the small creature along. And as soon as the sudden force had appeared, it swiftly diminished and then ceased which in turn left the tiny being shakily standing at the edge of the ruby pool. What wonders and mysteries lay within the rippling pool? What would the sparkling behold? Dipping it helm in uneasiness, the small being slowly and cautiously shuffled ahead. Was the crimson pool a symbol of something good, reassuring? Or would there be horrible and revolting things that lay in the ruby puddle? It didn't know...

As the youngling cautiously glanced into the crimson puddle, its turquoise optics widened in fear as a terrified mewl slipped in between its partially open lip components. Staring back at the sparkling through the reddened reflection with equal shock clearly evident was...a monster; though the small creature did not have the slightest clue what was glaring back at it. It wanted to run away and cower in fear but for some abnormal reason, it was as if the tiny being's paws were welded to the ground.

"G-grrr?" It growled the youngling's voice shaky and full of terror. The sparkling's roar; it had a strange feeling it would go unanswered.

_...The tiny being was __**very **__wrong..._

_...And this is indeed where everything would start to go downhill for the small creature..._

A long deafening **BANG** of thunder rumbled through the sky and startled the sparkling with ease. It let out an audio receptor piercing howl as it fumbled to stay upright. As a result of the youngling's stumbling, it slipped and skidded on the slippery chrome and metal surface and fell faceplates first into the acid rain puddle. Its first reaction was complete surprise until an excruciating pain struck its left optic. The youngling rolled around in the acid rain puddle shrieking and growling in an energon-curdling manner. The acid rain from the puddle had splashed into its left optic glass and was now gradually and agonizingly melting it away. The sparkling's struggle consisted of thrashing and screeching, yet no one came to the small creature's aid. No one was in close proximity...

By now, the exposure of it tiny frame in the acid rain puddle was taking effect and the poor being's plating felt as if it was on fire and literally being burnt alive. It continued to thrash and kick and scream into the storm but its desperate cries and pleas for help fell on deaf audio receptors. Its left optic glass by now was more or less entirely melted away as the youngling was growing tired rapidly from its continuous struggle.

A few kliks later, the small creature was lying eerily still and did not seem to be fighting the painfully encounter it was currently enduring. The sparkling's intakes were scarily sharp and swift and its frame would convulse harshly every half a nanoklik. This once chirpy and inquisitive youngling now lay helpless, in absolute agony and on the brink of offlining. Lengthy exposure to acid rain was bad enough for a fully grown Cybertronian but for a sparkling! Who could imagine that horror with a gleeful expression?! Younglings were meant to be in a safe nurturing environment where they can be closely monitored. If this terrible devastating weather was to continue or no found the tiny being in time, the ultimate deed would more than likely be committed.

Golden sparks escaped its injured frame and optic as the world around the small creature began to grow darker. It tried to remain awake and not to fall into a forced power-down but that was easier said than done. A strong wave of regret washed over the youngling as it immediately regretted leaving its refuge. What did the tiny being think it would gain from such an exploration?

"Beep b-beep..." Was its own answer as the youngling was continuously pelted with acid rain droplets, each one hurting more than the previous.

_...Then the world fell into complete darkness..._

_...All hope of survival had suddenly changed...or had it?_

**Please do NOT kill me! I have been overly busy this past month and a bit what with all these damn assessments to see my progress! You think a 13 year old would get a break once in a while but that's my youth side talking! I apologise for my late updating and I will try to get chapter 4 up quickly but until that day...**

**(epic bow) "till all are one"**

**BYE!**

**~shadybabe101 **


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